


Friday Night

by wallflow3r



Series: Being Real [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Conversations, Car Sex, F/M, First Dates, Humor, bethyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflow3r/pseuds/wallflow3r
Summary: It's Friday night and Daryl and Beth are heading out on their first date. Everything that can go wrong does go wrong as two worlds collide. Is their connection real or just a fantasy?Sequel to "Five Minutes". Inspired by LeighJ's "Real".





	Friday Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeighJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighJ/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Real](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187260) by [LeighJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighJ/pseuds/LeighJ). 



> So, basically I wasn't ready to let go of these two. This one's a monster but it was fun to write and it's LeighJ approved so ENJOY! ;)
> 
> A/N: In the previous fic "Five Minutes" Beth originally eats a hamburger but I've changed that to a stack of pancakes for continuity. It will make perfect sense later in the story.

She knows it's him. Her phone just buzzed a moment ago with a text telling her he’s arrived. But that does nothing to quell the rampant butterflies rioting in Beth's stomach when she hears his double tap on her door.

They've been texting all week. He texts her at least twice a day just to let her know he's thinking about her. His messages aren't sexual at all, which somehow makes them all the more exciting, knowing there might be something more behind them than simple lust.

They haven't had any more cam sessions. Beth hasn't opened the door to the room she uses to go online since their last one either. She's having a vacation, doing _a lot_ of thinking. About the future, about what she wants.  About Daryl.

She never intended to be a cam girl forever. Never really intended to do it for as long as she has but the money was seductively good and ironically it didn't involve putting herself out there. Not the real her. Following her dreams in the real world meant setting herself up for rejection and that was something she was more than happy to shy away from.

And now there's Daryl.

No guy has ever made her come before and she's a little worried everything she's feeling is a hormonal reaction to some grade A orgasms. But if it's not... well, she wants to find out. Because it wasn't just the mind blowing sex, she enjoyed arguing with him, and he's not hard to look at either.

Every single text message gives her a rush that is just a fraction of what she feels when she remembers the way he looked at her. His sense of humour is wicked, often pushing a breath from her lungs. Several times she catches herself a giddy mess and her cheeks ache from smiling when she rests her head on her pillow at night.

It all further builds up this moment where she's stood in front of her front door, knowing he's on the other side.

She takes a moment to look through the eyehole at him, heart thundering behind her ribs as she does so. Even through distorted glass, seeing him takes her breath away. He's just so gorgeous it really isn't fair; ocean blue eyes shining brightly from behind his permanently dishevelled mane. Muscles bulging beneath a smart black shirt, sleeves rolled up freeing his rippling forearms. She can't believe she's been looking at this man for three years, but she hadn't really seen seeing him until now. Nights on cam involved detaching herself, shutting down as much as possible. Now she feels more awake than she has done in years, more excited than she remembers feeling in her whole adult life.

With butterflies in her chest she pushes the handle down and pulls the door open. After almost a week there he is, live and in person standing at her front door.

When he sees her his eyes flare before roaming her body with a look of complete awe. Beth feels her cheeks grow hot under the attention of his smouldering gaze, stomach pulling tight at the affect she still has on him.

She's dressed to kill in a little black dress with a high collar, open shoulders, a slit that runs from her collar to her navel and another that climbs her thigh revealing the peach glow of her skin. She swallows audibly and he drags his eyes up to meet hers. She doesn’t miss the way his ears tinge pink at being caught staring.

“Hey,” He rumbles, a little thicker than she remembers; voice full of gravel and scraping its way deliciously down her spine.

“Hey yourself,” She says, unable to control the grin that takes over her face at the sight of him.

His eyes smile back at her and his mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile.

“You ready to go, gorgeous?” He asks, wandering eyes taking her in again.

Beth nods, stepping out into the hallway and pulling the door closed behind her. She’s close enough now that she can smell him, a heady mix of cigarettes and engine oil that is intoxicating. She’s close enough that she can feel the full effect of his enraptured eyes on her bared skin, making her entire body thrum with nervous energy. She’s close enough that she can see his fingers twitch at his sides as though he wants to reach out and touch her, and the possibility of his hands on her skin, if not now then at some point tonight, makes her heart pound.

 _He’s really here._ She thinks as their eyes catch and she takes a slow breath to calm her rabbiting heart. _This is really happening._

"You look _incredible_ ," he says as she falls into step beside him in the hall way.  
  
"Thank you," she responds with another uncontrollable grin.  
  
Beth's a _pretty_ girl, she knows she is, has always been told so, maybe even beautiful in the right light but nobody has ever called her incredible before. It makes her feel powerful, as though he isn’t talking about the way she looks, not just.  
  
"You don't clean up so bad yourself," She says, letting her eyes wash over his body like a caress.  
  
He grunts in response but when his eyes catch hers they lock and burn with enough intent to make her mouth go dry.  
  
_Jus' keep putting one foot in front of the other_. She reminds herself, knees feeling a little weak all of a sudden.

They fall into a comfortable silence, weighted with anticipation and thrumming with excitement. Beth's heart is jangling in her chest as Daryl holds the door open to his old, beat up truck and she slides into the passenger side.

Steadily, the air between them grows thick with palpable tension and every time Daryl steals a glimpse in Beth's direction she feels like she needs to crack the window open in order to breathe. It's a cool summer evening but the inside of the car is hot and buzzing.

His hand lightly touches the small of her back as he guides her somewhere, she has no idea where because the moment she feels the heat of his palm through the thin silk of her dress she can't focus on anything else.

It's the first time he's touched her since they left the bathroom of the diner almost a week ago. She didn't realise until now that she'd been waiting, wanting him to touch her ever since she’d set eyes on him live and in person where he stood in her hallway. Even the barest of touches has her mind drifting to all the ways he _could_ touch her, all the ways he _has_ touched her. She bites the inside of her lip, slowing down just enough so that his hand presses a little more firmly into her back, fingers curling around her waist as he steers her towards their destination.  
  
Having zoned out completely, Beth is thrown back into reality when she's met with a wall of noise. She suddenly finds herself surrounded by a loud cacophony of voices and the overpowering smell of grilled meat.

She feels out of place as she takes in the blue jeans and cowboy boots worn by the surrounding diners like a uniform. A few wolf whistles and a wave of cowboy hats follow them as a gingham clad waitress leads them to their table. Beth cautiously eases down into the chair that Daryl pulls out and then brings back in for her before taking his seat opposite. There’s a sweat forming on her brow from the heat of the room, and a whole host of other reasons as Daryl smiles at her across the wicker basket full of bread rolls, his own cheeks tinged pink.

“Been here a couple a times with Merle,” He says, grabbing a roll and taking a bite, “S’best steakhouse in Atlanta.”

Beth smiles back at him weakly as she drops her eyes to the laminated menu in front of her and the many pictures of grilled meat.

Daryl doesn’t miss a thing, brows diving into a frown at her lacklustre response. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m a vegetarian,” She confesses, her mouth pulling into a tight line as she watches his face fall.

“You don’ eat steak?” He asks, somewhat incredulously.

Beth shakes her head from side to side slowly, “Not so much.”

He looks crestfallen.

“Shit, Beth, m’sorry. You wanna go someplace else?” He asks, bringing his thumb up to catch the nail between his teeth and chew anxiously.

_God, yes._

“No, s’fine,” She says, watching his piercing blue eyes ripple with concern.

“Y’sure?” He tilts his head, but she can already see the relief smoothing out his brow.

_Hell no._

“Absolutely,” she says, forcing a smile.

Daryl doesn’t look convinced, his eyes searching her face for something when the waitress returns.

“What can I get y’all to drink?”

“Can I see your wine list?” Beth asks hopefully. She’s not usually much a drinker but right now she needs a real drink.

The blonde woman’s smile widens, “There’s red an’ there’s white,” She tells her confidently.

Beth’s heart sinks. She stares blankly for a moment before accepting that’s the limit of classification that is on offer. This place is nothing like the restaurants she's used to. There’s no delicate Pinot Grigio or juicy Chardonnay. She runs her tongue over her top lip thinking about how well the crisp taste of a good Riesling would settle her nerves right about now.

Her eyes flick to Daryl, his deepening frown and the anxious look on his face.

She smiles wanly, “I’ll have a glass of white wine, please.”

“I’ll take a beer,” Daryl nods but he’s still watching Beth closely.

Their waitress turns and leaves, and a silence stretches past comfort between them.

Beth busies herself with staring intently at the pictures of meat that she isn’t going to eat and deliberately not meeting Daryl’s persistent gaze.

He doesn’t say anything, just ducks his head to flip through his own menu, his expressive eyes flicking up every now and then, alight with concern.

Soon enough the waitress is back with their drinks.

“Y’all ready to order?” She asks, pulling out her pad expectantly.

Beth can feel Daryl’s eyes red-hot on the side of her face as she nods.

“I’ll have a salad,” She says, closing her menu and passing it to the waitress.

“An’ what would you like that on the side of, honey?”

“Jus’ the salad is fine.”

Beth’s stomach clenches as two pairs of eyes stare at her like she’s grown a second head.

“Alright, lil rabbit,” The waitress gives her a wink before turning to Daryl, “An’ you, darlin’?”

When Beth finally looks at Daryl he's looking back at her, eyes wary and with a question before he turns to the waitress.

“I'll have the rib eye, rare, no sauce,” He says quickly, handing her his menu before direction his attention back to Beth.

The waitress nods, “Alright then. Won't be long.”

“Thanks,” Daryl rumbles, eyes glued to Beth's face as though desperately looking for a cue, anything to go on.

Beth cards her fingers through her hair, pulling it forward to frame her face, making her feel slightly less exposed. Daryl follows the movement of her hand, chewing on the inside of his lip as though he wants to say something but thinks better of it. She wishes he wouldn't. Wishes he'd just spit it out, all rough words and clipped syllables wrapped around a cocky smirk. Instead he's holding back, being _polite,_ and it doesn't suit him. Pissing her off with a smart ass remarks suits him far better.

Instead, he's watching her over his beer as she takes an experimental sip of her wine. She proffers a small, forced smile and he returns it with one of his own. The atmosphere is as strained as their smiles, awkward, and Beth suddenly feels as though she's sitting across from someone she doesn't know.

_That's because you are. You've fucked more times than you've met in person. You don't really know each other at all._

“I guess this is the part where people usually talk about what they do for a livin',” Beth says dryly, bringing her glass back to her lips.

Daryl blinks back at her, “Is it?”

She rolls a shoulder, “It's just what people talk about, you know.”

He nods but from the blank look on his face she doesn’t think he agrees.

“Did your daddy teach you how to fix cars?” She asks. When Daryl's face twists into a scowl she suddenly wishes she hadn't.

“Nah,” He grunts with a violent shake of his head before taking a long drink of his beer.

“Oh. I just thought… ‘cause a the name of your garage, maybe it was a family trade or somethin',” She says a little sheepishly, face tinged red.

Daryl nods but his jaw is churning as he looks down and away.

“Nah, jus' my brother an' me.”

 “He seems nice.”

Daryl's head snaps up, glaring at her across the table.

“He's an asshole,” He spits.

Beth feels her eyes grow wide in the middle of her rapidly flushing face.

“My big sister, Maggie, she used to drive me crazy always bossin' me around back on the farm,” Beth rambles nervously, “I used to think she was such a bitch, treatin' me like a baby, an' my big brother Shawn too, he was so annoying and overprotective, I couldn't wait to get away.”

She shakes her head and sighs, “But you know what's funny?”

“What?” Daryl asks, frown lost as he stares with rapt interest.

Beth smiles, “I kinda miss it now.”

The corner of Daryl's mouth pulls up into a wry smile that ascends all the way to his eyes, sparkling as they hold hers. Suddenly her heart’s flying in her chest from the way he’s looking at her.

It's almost a relief when the waitress arrives with their food and Daryl tears his eyes away, looking like it takes considerable effort to do so.

As they dig into their food Beth notices that Daryl isn’t eating with the same unrestrained gusto as he did back at the diner and she somehow finds herself missing the smacking of his ridiculously oversized mouthfuls. When he uses a napkin to wipe steak juice from his chin Beth finds herself staring at his forearms, fondly remembering the way he’d run his dirty mouth across the solid muscle, giving zero fucks what anyone thought of him. Her eyes linger on those forearms as the muscles flex beneath his tanned skin, sending goosebumps rippling across the back of her neck.

“Y’alright?” Daryl’s low rumble pulls her out of her thoughts and when she raises her eyes to meet his he’s staring again, head tilted to the side.

She nods, hoping she can keep the blush off her face as she swallows nervously. He doesn’t look convinced, holding her gaze as his mouth twists with another something he’s not saying.

“Your food alright?” He asks, eying her bowl of leaves with barely concealed disdain.

“It’s good,” She nods, fingers clenching and unclenching around her cutlery.

“You want another drink?” His eyes dart to her wine glass, still half full.

“No, thanks,” She says, shaking her head with a thin smile.

He bites his lip, looking a little disappointed. Beth’s smile widens at his clear attempts to take care of her and his observant eyes catch the subtle change in her expression, face instantly lightening.

“So, you grew up on a farm?” He ventures, draining the last of his beer.

“Does that surprise you?” She fires back, reaching for her own glass.

He shrugs, “I’unno.”

“Where’d you grow up?” She asks before taking a sip of her wine.

Daryl’s face instantly sours and Beth’s stomach pulls itself into a knot as he grinds his empty beer bottle into the table.

“A few places,” He mutters furtively. His eyes are blank as they stare at the beer bottle in his hand but she can tell her isn’t really looking at anything. He’s just _not looking_ at her as he starts to pick at the label on the bottle, anger coming off him in waves.

_Note to self: Daryl Dixon doesn't like talking about his family._

Beth takes the hint and falls into silence. When their waitress stops by a few minutes later and ask if they want the bill, Daryl’s eyes flick up to hers. His jaw tightens when she nods before he echoes the motion.

Once he’s paid the bill, and she’s exasperated him even further by offering to split it, they make their way out of the restaurant. Beth welcomes the night air that fills her lungs and cools her skin. Her eyes fall closed, getting lost in the change of climate for a moment and not paying any attention to her surroundings.

When she starts to sink, feet suddenly feeling cold and wet, her eyelids spring open.

Looking down her mouth falls open in horror as she’s somehow walked straight into the middle of the deepest muddy puddle she’s ever seen.

Beth tugs at her foot and then squeaks when there’s a loud wet sucking sound and her shoe sinks further into the mud.

She loses her balance, stumbling backwards unexpectedly when a pair of big warm hands catch her around the waist.

Daryl lifts her easily into the air as though she weighs nothing.

“My shoe!” Beth cries, pointing at her black stiletto left stuck in the mud like a crude version of Cinderella.

“Uh, I think it’s a goner,” Daryl rumbles and Beth feels his chest vibrate from where she’s scooped up in his arms.

 “Daryl, those are seven hundred dollar shoes!” She gasps, turning to gape at him.

Beth watches confusion and then disbelief cross Daryl’s face like clouds being blown across the sky before he visibly snaps, face contorting with annoyance.

“Girl, why in the _hell_ would you spend that much on shoes?” He demands, “My damn truck ain’t even worth that!”

Her eyes flare wildly, head turning back and forth between her beautiful shoe, sunken in sludge and Daryl’s comically outraged expression.

“Because they’re Louboutins,” Beth says, staring back at him with more than a little outrage of her own.

“S’at s’pos’d to mean somethin’?” He glares, accent fuller than his understanding.

Beth huffs, “It means I ain’t leavin’ without my damn shoe!”

Apparently accepting defeat, Daryl lets out an explosive breath. He sets Beth down and turns back to the ridges of mud with Beth’s shoe nestled in the centre.

Walking in the shallower part of the muddy water he coats his own shoes in brown dirt and retrieves her shoe. Beth watches in fascination as he then crouches in front of her, wiping the red soul off on his pants leg before setting it down in front of her bare foot.

Holding the shoe in place, Daryl looks up at her as he curls his thick fingers around her ankle and guides her foot inside. Beth’s heart flutters when his hand remains wrapped around her ankle. His intense blue eyes are bright even in the fading light as they stare her into a state of cardiac arrest.

“I’m no knight but you sure are a fuckin’ princess,” he grouses, but the way his eyes soften around the edges she doesn’t think he really minds it.

She can't control the giggles that bubble up and shake their way out of her chest. Doesn't even try when she sees the way his eyes light up at the sound bursting from her lips.  
  
The nervous tension broken, a new kind sets in. Beth feels it start to simmer at the base of her spine and spike every time Daryl steals a glance in her direction. His gaze drifts to her often enough for her to be glad the road's quiet at this time of night.  
  
A shiver runs through her entire body as his hot blue pools wash over every inch of her exposed skin before catching hers. When their eyes lock and she sees all the need she feels seething within mirrored right back at her the floodgates open, a week's worth of waiting pouring out in a rush.  
  
"Pull over," She demands breathlessly, “ _Now.”_

Beth's kicked off her heels and crawled into Daryl's lap before he realises what's happening. When he does, his hand gets lost in her hair as his mouth seeks out her skin; he kisses her cheek, her jaw and finally her lips. She moans into his mouth and her hands are a blur as she hurriedly tugs at his belt, desperate to get to him. He shudders as she pulls his cock out and wraps her delicate fingers around it.  
  
"You're already so hard," she gasps, letting her head fall to the side as he mouths his way across her throat.  
  
"Girl, I been hard all night, ever since I saw you in this damn dress," He growls, running his hands up her thighs.  
  
His growl turns to a whimper as she strokes her palm across the tip, smearing pre cum across her skin.  
  
Her slick fingers curl around him and she pushes up on her knees where she’s posititioned astride his lap. As she does so, his hands slide up the smooth skin on her thighs all the way to her ass.  
  
" _Fuck_ ," Daryl chokes, gripping her cheeks in his hot palms, "You ain't been wearing panties this whole time?"  
  
Burying his face in the bared skin between her breasts he groans deep in his chest. His huge hands stretch to span her rounded cheeks, reaching around until his fingers nudge her swollen lips.

"Jesus, girl, what are you tryin' a do to me?" He asks, hot breath stroking her sensitive skin.  
  
"I woulda thought that was obvious by now," Beth whispers, guiding his straining cock towards her centre.  
  
"I ain't gonna last long," He moans as she rubs his cockhead between her folds and it catches on her throbbing hole.  
  
"Don't need long," she gasps, rocking her hips downwards.  
  
And she doesn't. Just the feel of him pressing inside her walls as she slides down his thick cock has her halfway to undone.

The growl Daryl lets out sounds like it's been punched out of him. His eyes darken, hands tightening on Beth's ass. He sucks in a shuddering breath, and Beth abruptly realizes that he's shaking. Like he needed this just as much as she did. 

Beth moans, letting her weight rest on Daryl as she cups his face and kisses him deeply. They’re both breathing heavily, gasping into each other’s mouths as Daryl makes it deeper and more passionate, as though he’s trying to pull every shred of Beth’s being into his own body.

Suddenly he fucks up into her, hitting somewhere deep inside that she didn't know existed. He does it again, mining pleasure with another deep thrust. His pelvic bone is kissing her clit and every time he moves her nipples tighten.

When he pulls her ass down at the same time that he fucks up into her she goes blind with pleasure. His cock plunges so deep she feels like she's splitting in two. Her entire body trembles and her heart stutters for several beats.

Beth is staring into his eyes when her orgasm hits, washing over her body with fluttering pleasure from the bottom of her spine to the back of the neck. He's staring back, eyes glazed with total rapture, when suddenly his mouth falls open and Beth feels heat spill inside her trembling pussy as a broken moan spills from his lips.  
  
The moment his eyes slide back into focus they're drowning with panic, her name forming on his parted lips. Beth's hand comes up to cup his jaw softly and his raging blue eyes are just starting to calm when they’re interrupted by the red and blue lights of a police cruiser pulling up behind them. Beth scrambles off his lap when she sees the car door open and the officer climb out. She hurriedly pulls her dress down to cover her now oozing slit, feeling Daryl’s hot come pooling at the apex of her thighs. There’s a jarring tap at the window as Daryl hastily yanks his jeans up and fastens his belt. He glances over at Beth and catches her eyes for a breathless second before rolling down the window.

Beth’s cheeks are on fire as she takes in the officer’s crisp cream shirt with the shiny gold star above the pocket, and the colt python in the holster around his waist.

“Evenin’ office,” Daryl greets, and when his voice comes out as raw and fucked out at Beth feels he immediately clears his throat.

The officer dips his chin, looking into the car and piercing Beth with his bright blue eyes. She swallows nervously, cheeks burning as the officer takes in her crooked dress with a tight mouth. When Beth takes a shaky inhale the air is heavy with the scent of sweat and come.

“Evenin’, licence an’ registration, please,” He prompts, his voice rough and low, drawling just enough to mark him as a Georgia native, “Can I ask what you folks are doin’ pulled over out here at this time a night?”

Beth tries not to squirm in her seat as Daryl leans over her to retrieve what he asks for from the glove box and she sees her lipstick smeared all over his mouth.

_Shit._

The officer’s eyes are sparkling as they catch hers, mouth twitching into just the hint of a smirk.

“We, uh, were jus' talkin’,” Daryl lies and doesn't think it sounds wholly unconvincing if it wasn't for the cherry red kisses trailing up his jaw.

The officer raises an eyebrow before glancing down to reviews Daryl's documents, “Mr. _Dixon,_ I think you ought to have your _conversation_ somewhere a little more _private.”_

_Fuck._

The officer looks up, past Daryl and at Beth, “I wouldn' wanna have to write you up for public indecency, were things to get outta hand.”

Beth flushes to the roots of her hair, her heart plummeting straight to her gut.

“Yes, officer,” Daryl answers quickly, “We'll do that right away.”

“Grimes. Rick Grimes,” The officer dips his chin as he hands Daryl back his things.

 “Alright then. Get home safe,” Officer Grimes says, mouth tipping towards a little smile as he smacks the palm of his hand against the roof of the truck indicating they are free to leave.

Daryl's eyes flick up to Beth's as he starts the engine and they both exhale in a rush.

“Better get you home ‘fore you get me arrested,” He rumbles, a smile pulling at his mouth as they drive off.  

It startles a laugh out of Beth and she shakes her head, sinking down into the passenger seat with a sigh.

“ _Don’t_ ,” She groans, covering her face but beneath her palms is a grin so wide her cheeks ache.

They fall into an easy silence with smiles lingering on their faces as they travel the short distance back to Beth’s apartment.

When Daryl pulls up in front of her building and kills the engine Beth feels her stomach pull tight with anticipation.

He turns to face her, hand coming up to cradle her jaw.

His eyes are churning, face set and serious as his thumb softly strokes the apple of her cheek.

“M’sorry ‘bout before,” He says solemnly, “I should’n’a don’ that, I didn’ mean to.”

He looks distraught and Beth takes pity on him, her hand coming up to cover his.

“It’s fine. I’ll get some plan B tomorrow,” She shrugs.

“I’ll take you,” Daryl nods.

“You don’t have to,” Beth smiles, forehead creasing at the serious expression on Daryl’s face.

“I do. I want to,” He whispers, fingers gently brushing up her neck and under her jaw, making her shiver with want. He looks like he wants to kiss her, but is holding himself back.

“I guess you’re stayin’ the night then,” She says, leaning into his touch.

A slow smile spreads across Daryl's face, his expression one of pure joy, lighting up his eyes like the first breach of sunlight on the horizon.


End file.
